


please don't take off my mask

by ikksnay



Series: pressure [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Friendship, Post-Canon, Trans Female Character, trans!Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikksnay/pseuds/ikksnay
Summary: That morning, I was full of confidence from what we had accomplished. I called my mother to tell her something important. It was a short call. I hung up, bit back tears, and headed downstairs. I should have known better. It’s over, anyway.





	please don't take off my mask

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Persona 5's final scenes and post-game. Joker comes out.

That morning, I was full of confidence from what we had accomplished. I called my mother to tell her something important. It was a short call. I hung up, bit back tears, and headed downstairs. I should have known better, but it doesn't really matter. It’s over, anyway.

* * *

It only took one minute of silence on the road for my anxieties to return. I clear my throat, as if that’ll stop the sinking in the back of my throat. “So, Morgana… Way back when you first became a van in Mementos, you claimed the engine felt good…”

“Oh, yeah!” Ryuji blurts immediately, springing up in the front-passenger seat (ignoring the groans of protest as he excitedly elbows Futaba and Yusuke in the face). He must have been searching for a topic, too. “I mean… Is it like when your heart’s racing after running, or--”

“--is it more of an internal feeling, like... the frantic dance of inspiration?” piped Yusuke in a voice a bit higher than usual, squeezed into the front seat between Ryuji and the door as he was (“I’d rather be smashed in with people than in the back with the road trip supplies,” Yusuke had sniffed earlier with a slight blush).

Makoto says nothing, but revs the engine with a devious smile.

“Just cut it out!” Morgana yowls from Futaba’s lap in the cramped middle-of-the-front seat (“training”, Futaba had explained curtly). Morgana tried to leap at Ryuji, but Futaba still had a death grip on his cheeks. “And besides, why’s it always have to be-- oww-- running with you?!” He acted irritated as he and Ryuji started arguing, but they had huge, matching smiles.

I sink back into my seat, eyes shuttering with a small sigh. Being “kidnapped” by my friends rather than taken directly back to that cold, lonely room that may as well be back in prison is certainly the best thing that has happened to me in months, but… Nothing lasts. Certainly not with me. A year from now… Well, I hope they’re all still happy. It’s alright if they don’t remember me.

Good for everyone. Good for Morgana... Not disappearing must be a wonderful feeling. I wonder if disappearing would be as-- No. Can’t let thoughts like that take hold, not now, not here, it'd be pathetic to succumb surrounded by friends-- but that’s just how panic takes root. Now, heart pounding, hands shaking, the sounds and sights of belonging fading, knowing that it all must end--

Sudden warmth embraces my clenched fist. As my head jerks back in surprise, my wide eyes catch Haru’s-- she must have noticed me tremble, but she didn’t say a word. Just familiar, friendly sensation. Easier to focus on-- it’s a technique-- well, more an idea-- I mentioned to Haru during her grief counseling last year. The cheap seat beneath me squeaks as on my other side Ann dramatically drapes herself across my shoulders. In a cheesy tone she delivers a pickup line that makes the van rock with happy laughter once again: "So what gets _your_ motor running, Jokerrr?" But, her smile is warm and her eyes genuinely concerned-- obviously asking what’s wrong. I look away. I am only here to remain the strong leader the Phantom Thieves need-- and when the Phantom Thieves disband after this final road trip, I’ll no longer be necessary, and... I casually duck forward to hide my expression. Even I’m shocked at how vicious my own thoughts can be. Eyes clenched shut now, taking deep, slow breaths to bring back my calm facade…

I straighten back up, tears now evaporated. A practiced, perfectly coy smile returns to my face… but it falters when I realize the horrible, lonely silence has returned. Worse, I catch concerned expressions looking my way… No. Don’t. My mind races for a topic-- something charming, something knowledgable, something to make sure everyone else is safe. If my thoughts are this horrible in silence, after all, then everyone else’s must be...

“Akira.” Makoto’s voice is even harder than usual and shocks me to my senses. She catches my eyes in the rear-view mirror before she continues. “Taking care of yourself is...” She hesitates, and her tone softens. “It’s okay to cry.”

My smile widens, but breaks. My entire body tenses as I struggle to respond and laugh it off… but Haru is still holding my clenched fist, and she feels it tremble. Gently, she pulls me sideways into her lap, but it’s still a few minutes of my shocked silence before I’m able to cry. I cry for all my friends’ pain, I cry that the horrible plot we foiled existed in the first place, and I finally, finally cry for myself.

* * *

The front seat groans as Ryuji leans back, placing his hands exaggeratedly behind his head.  
“You know… I’ve always thought that Akira is pretty amazing. Like, back when we first met? So much weird stuff was happening, but… so cool, and worried about me, and stuff!” The others murmur agreement, but I don’t respond. Well, yes, of course. I had to, for your sake. Other people come first, it’s only decent…

”...and when I saw that, I was determined to try twice as hard to get us out of there and make things easier on you, right? Have been ever since.” Surprised, I look up, only to see Ryuji practically bent backwards to peer over the seat at me with a huge, mischievous smile. A few more grateful tears roll down my cheek as my smile quivers and I blush. Ryuji whistles.

“Man, y’all need to see this face Akira makes when you talk about doin’ nice stuff for ‘em, it’s great!” It’s weird. I’ve never been pleased to be embarrassed before.

“Ooh, I like this game!” Ann claps once, then practically lies on top of me as I continue to lie in Haru’s lap. Looking up, I catch an edge in Makoto’s eyes at this doubled traffic safety violation, but she just smiles, shakes her head, and sighs. Phew.

“Let’s see… Well, when I first met Akira, um, I kinda assumed you were just a jerk like everyone else, so… Sorry, first off…” She reaches for my other hand, and I happily squeeze her hand. No harm done. When she continues, her sunny smile is clear in her speech. “But… you were there for me. And I’m gonna do Ryuji one better, not only did I do my best to return the favor, I also worked on my own kindness!”

“Wh-- hey!” Ryuji twists in his seat again, sputtering. “I-I was nice to those track team guys, too, and--”

“Ooh, yeah, you were like ‘yeah, bro, love is the only way to win at nationals’ and--”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Even as they continue to tease back and forth, Ann reassuringly squeezes my hand. Just when Ann is starting to lose track of her Ryuji impression from laughing too much, Yusuke clears his throat and interjects.  
“I wish to keep this brief.” Futaba guffaws, but Yusuke continues unabated.

“Akira, I must thank you for leading this team to my own rescue. What’s more, well… How do I put this… I wish for you not to be concerned by the thought of being “too nice”, if I identify your feelings correctly.

After all, when you first met me, I was, er… Well, I didn’t understand, and I refused to understand. Kindness aside, it was your wholehearted, perhaps stubborn--” Futaba must have shot a violent look-- ”ah, dogged belief in what is right that prompted me to…” Here he hesitates, finally concluding, “open my eyes”.

“‘Open your eyes’?!” Futaba exploded. She had been bobbing back and forth, slowly at first but faster and faster as Yusuke labored to select the perfect words. “From how I heard it, they held you down and taped your eyes open!”

Yusuke bristles, but clutches his fist in front of him. “Perhaps it’s true. I--” Quick as a snake, Futaba pounces across Ryuji and plasters her palm across Yusuke’s face. “Shh. Makoto’s turn, loudmouth.”  
A slightly muffled but still haughty reply, “Not Inari?”

“You’re too annoying for just one nickname.”

Gently smiling-- without even having to think about it!-- I sit up slightly and stretch my arm as far as it’ll go and reverentially pat the top of Yusuke’s perfect hair, which he gallantly dips over the seat for a moment so I can actually reach. He is right. At least, I did give him a lot of “are you kidding me” looks. As with everything, Makoto notices and waits for me to rise unsteadily back in my seat to continue.

“I believe I remember the moment I became Akira’s friend. During the course of my investigation, many of my relationships were… strained. My sister, Principal Ko…” She hesitates. “...the school, and the student body were… not on my side. Akira, I don’t think you fully realize, but I went through something like what you are going through now when I broke down in front of the team. I believed I had an obligation to be perfect, perfection as defined by my sister and by society, and when I failed to be perfect…”

Her voice never wavers or cracks as she speaks, but the speedometer creeps up. Ann and Haru simultaneously reach forward to place a hand on Makoto’s shoulder, making all three of the chuckle slightly. Makoto takes a deep breath.

“When I looked up, I saw you, Akira, full of genuine concern. Not a cool facade, not someone obligated to serve, just…” She takes another breath. “A kind, sweet, gentle guy.”  
I freeze up, but only for an instant. I know it. I nod, smile, and thank Makoto… who narrows her eyes. She knows I’m not telling her everything. My heart starts to pound all over again.  
“Here’s a gas station and coffee shop. Let’s stretch our legs.”

* * *

Makoto has the van parked before I can object. I’m still searching for an escape when she’s sent everyone else to buy snacks and climbs into the back seat, quietly sliding the door closed behind her. The air grows hot and stuffy. I’m trapped. Maybe cold loneliness isn’t so bad after all.

“Akira. Breathe.” I nod and take a few deep breaths, but don’t bother hiding the miserable look on my face. She gently takes my hand, but a few more minutes pass before she speaks again. “I’m sorry if I said anything that made you uncomfortable. Would you like to talk about it?” She’s trying, but the formal tone makes me feel much worse. I crumple forward, and she scoots across the vinyl seat to allow me to lean on her shoulder. Three deep breaths, and I’ll tell her.

“Makoto, I’m…” My voice emerges as a low, dry croak. It sends shivers of revulsion down my spine. I lick my lips and try again. “I’m… Fine..?” I regret it instantly, feeling foolish, but she just nods and reaches up to stroke my hair. Three more deep breaths…

“I’m… I want to be a girl.”

I brace for an impact that never comes. Once she finishes combing my hair with her fingers, she just intertwines my fingers in hers and squeezes. I get teary-eyed. She kisses my forehead. “A kind, sweet, gentle, girl.” I cry for myself, for the second time in years.

* * *

Half an hour later, I’ve collected myself. My eyes are red from crying, my hair is tangled and I’m still sniffling. It’s wonderful. When I step out of the van, it is as though I am feeling the cool air on my bare face for the first time. Masks are nice, but sometimes you need to feel the world for yourself-- or so I think to myself somewhat dazedly before Makoto takes my hand and guides me into the coffee shop. The others are waiting, packed into a small corner booth-- and soon, Makoto has them rearranged until I’m packed in the corner. Staring at the table, occasionally wiping my nose. Fists clenched, eyes closed...

“Hi. I’d like to be a girl. Please call me Aki for now.”

A hush falls over the table for a moment.

Ryuji looks a bit confused. I brace myself as he slowly opens his mouth. “Uh… I’m sorry I called you ‘dude’ and stuff so much.” My mouth drops open.

Ann, on my other side, hugs me. “I’m sorry, too. I wish I knew, but… I understand not being able to talk about stuff.” With a small, grateful smile, I hug back-- hard. The excited chatter resumes redoubled as Morgana leaps across the table from Futaba’s lap to mine, purring loudly. Yusuke leans back with a satisfied expression, nodding without saying a thing.

Futaba snickers. “You’re already a girl, Aki! Not your fault nobody could tell.” I raise an eyebrow, and she nods. “Anyway, I never got my turn! Hmm... The first time I heard about you was Sojiro grumbling and mumbling. At first I was super-jealous of this cool delinquent who didn’t care about anything, but, um… Now I know, you care a lot! And that’s way cooler!” Futaba flais about excitedly, almost losing her balance from her customary perch. On instinct, I usher her into a safer seat in the booth-- she moves, but not without teasing me for being “tooooooo nice”. I smile, hugging her.

Haru nods and squeezes in close on Makoto’s other side, leaning across her lap to tearfully take my hands. “I will always be there for you, Aki.” I nod… and, overcome with emotion, hug her head to mine for a moment.

Makoto deftly switches seats with Haru as she continues. “Let’s see… From Mona’s stories, I couldn’t help but imagine you as a cool, perfect leader… Once I actually met you in my father’s Palace, though, I saw that you weren’t concerned with looking like a cool perfect leader. You were simply... Determined to act, do what's right, what had to be done.” The table rung with agreement as Haru looked down at her lap. “I… Don’t want you to go thinking that you can only do wonderful things when you yourself feel wonderful, I suppose. It’s okay to feel awful, and it’s okay to ask for help… All we can do is our best. And... I’m so glad I was able to ask for help when I needed it most, when I needed f-frien…” Haru choked up, wiping away a tear. “Family.” We all cried along with her, smiles intact.

And... exhale. No horror, No humiliation... no “my son is dead”. Over the next half-hour, everyone shuffled seats many times-- everyone wanted a chance to let me lean on them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay my gratitude-- though when I said so, Morgana put his paw on my mouth to shush me. As Makoto and Futaba explains terms to Ryuji and Yusuke, Ann and Haru hotly debate where to take me shopping first. I close my eyes and sigh, quiet and happy. It’s over.

**Author's Note:**

> The first line in the second section popped into my head fully-formed. I thought to myself, "this is nice and all, but I'm way too busy today to do anything with it." So, I went to write it down for later, and then three or four hours later I had written my first fanfiction. Oops. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
